


broken crayons

by ramcoon



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study, killua's childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramcoon/pseuds/ramcoon
Summary: First, he stopped voicing his thoughts.Next, he asked himself.What’s the point of having them if they were of no use?Finally, he stopped wanting altogether.
Kudos: 23





	broken crayons

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting on my files for a few years now

Killua was three when he was taught of Shadow Step.

It was Zeno who supervised him. When the adult went home from a two-month mission of infiltrating a country, his grandson awaited by the Testing Gates. A restless Killua, at that.

He hadn’t asked right away the reason he was waiting however, and Zeno thought the walk towards the mansion would be silent till they reach it when Killua spoke, “I miss Wolf, grandpa.” There was a slight pause as his shoulders drooped and he looked down with a solemn expression. “Father said Wolf was in terrible pain and he has to be put down... and I, I was his owner, so.”

Of course, Silva plotted something. As far as Zeno knew, Wolf was the same puppy Killua rescued by the roadside out the estate, it was his pet for a year now and if Zeno didn’t know better, he might have believed that the kid to take care of a dog and the person to put it down should really be the same person.

Well. “That’s how it should be, Kil.” Zeno states. “He is your responsibility after all.”

Killua craned his neck to see his face and if there was a lie there.

After which Killua asked if Zeno could teach him new skills while he waits for Illumi to return. Thus, under a condition, Zeno agreed. He would be taught of Shadow Step and he would exercise this newly learnt skill on shadowing missions. Killua was ecstatic of the idea as well. A win-win situation.

Still, even Zeno was baffled when Killua mastered Shadow Step in a span of a few months. What with the skill being an application of Zetsu. Killua had exceptional potential. And he was told of, so he should take pride on his missions.

Relative to the family, Killua might be different in a lot of ways. This is only the beginning, however, and whatever he realized when he put down the dog he adored so, would surely stick to him till he grows up.

Killua was four when Silva decided he was ready for another skill, the Rhythm Echo.

They were down the chambers, courtesy of his second eldest. Milluki had been boasting his achievement all the while. Surprising enough, the young man’s record in perfecting the technique was on par with his elder brother, Illumi. Milluki debated being close in record with the family heir was a coup worth bragging about.

Silva had only demonstrated how it was when he felt Kikyo’s demanding presence outside. He started for the door when a blur passed by him. 

“The hell, Kil?!”

Silva moved a firm foot back towards the room, turning to see Milluki ran into an afterimage of Killua. He then heard Kikyo shriek before Killua was in front of him, being assisted by his calm mother back in. She then briefed him softly, “Father and I are going to discuss some important matters, Kil. Be obedient and stay here, understood?”

Then, Silva realized.

Killua had just done the assassination technique on first try.

It all happened in a blink.

Milluki was fuming in utter disbelief when he hurried to their side, “Damn it! How did you do that?! Grandpa taught you after all, didn’t he?!”

“Huh?” Killua’s eyes widen quizzically, wary of his brother’s actions. “No, grandpa only trained me with Shadow Step. And this is only an enhanced version of it, right—” Then it suddenly dawned on him. He pretended to laugh maniacally, “Am I that good, Milluki? Ha, I just did it! I’m the greatest!”

Silva bended his arms across his chest, facing them completely. This was very remarkable.

He smirked.

By the time Killua turned six, the family had already acknowledged him a prodigy. More often than not, they would bring their targets into the estate or spare some of Mike’s meals, all in order to teach the young Zoldyck the appropriate way of killing.

Silva honed Killua’s combat instincts, mostly adding practical trainings like standard sleeping positions to the equation.

Killua was gifted. He was executing his tasks with almost no difficulty. There would be no better place for his son’s talent, he was most suitable to be a candidate as his heir. Silva had to restrain himself, however; he could not afford to have Killua crushed by responsibilities on his shoulders, and there was still Illumi to speak to.

Since him being assassin could be given out by his obvious bloodlust, the training’s crucial part Silva heeded on as of late was mellowing Killua’s strong disposition.

He had been taught skills, ranging from using knives and handling combat with guns, of the strict human anatomy of vital points, about all the efficient ways to break bones and snap a neck. His son needed these to survive.

With Silva’s inclination to follow his upbringing, Killua had been subjected to different torture since birth as well. This was to subjugate the sense of pain Killua’s body could comprehend, to seal away the dispensable until it went away with little trace.

Admittedly, the young Zoldyck’s reaction to electricity, along with the incremental poison injected in him was undeniably sickening at first. He even used to end up passed out when sessions were completed. However, with Silva’s aid, his son was able to overcome these. What better evidence could there be? After all, Killua didn’t cry in pain or begged to stop anymore.

Upon using Nen, Illumi cracked under pressure. That was what young Killua heard as he sneaked up on his father and grandpa.

Killua’s mind connected the dots upon what he heard and the sudden change of air around Illu-nii. There was now a lack of warmth in his big brother’s eyes. It was scary.

Killua was out the mansion when Zeno emerged from the thick forest into a clearing “Grandpa!” Killua exclaimed in awe.

The old man patted his head, “You’re doing very well with your training, Kil.” He gave young Killua a thoughtful smile. “Are you aware how special you’ve become?” 

Killua tilted his head to the side in bewilderment, then his eyes sparkled with an idea. "Special so much—” he threw his small hands in the air, “—so much so I can play with Alluka now?" He grinned suggestively. Maybe he could team up with his grandpa again.

"I’d consider that,” Zeno stood up. Killua’s big eyes stared up at him.

“Grandpa, are you making Alluka do bad things, too?”

Killua’s eyes were fixed on him, adamant for an answer. There were discussions about the thing dwelling inside Alluka this past few weeks, but Zeno believed Silva had relieved Illumi of his missions to take measures of it. So, as a response, Zeno’s opted for, “I believe Alluka’s training would be put to a halt now, and I tell you you’ve become a candidate as the heir. If you do better, you might be able to meet Alluka more.”

Silva really had to make Killua understand the nature of their trade now.

At sundown, Killua was still at the clearing. Illumi arrived shortly, an old woman who walked weirdly trailing behind him.

“Hey. You look eager today, Kil.”

Young Killua ignored his remarks and sprinted past his big brother. He had darts in his hands. He rooted his feet in front of the elderly. Illumi twirled around to face them, intrigued about what their Grandfather told the younger. Oh well, he’d have to ask later.

“Hello!” Killua greeted the woman, albeit his voice lacked interest. He glanced back at his big brother in a rush, “’Lumi! Should I kill her?”

Yes. This was a good start.

At seven, Killua didn’t care anymore.

He didn’t ask for anything. He only took what he had been given, _because_ there were months when nobody listened to him. When he tried to call the manor in the middle of the night because he was so lonely or beaten after losing at Heavens Arena, and it felt as though they had all vanished. He was grateful to one person only. Milluki. Milluki would bring him random games through the falcon, though he was gone too after a while.

He was sent to Heavens Arena as a part of his early trainings. He had to be capable to survive on his own. But, he wanted to go home. He only has a few memories with Alluka, but all of them are happy. He wanted to see Alluka. Even if there were no toys anymore.

And when he came back from the arena, they somehow did listen to him. Yet when they did, there would always be a promise of torture session. Or combat trainings, strategies to escape from death. Killua was certain he would survive nevertheless.

However, they sometimes didn’t stay true to their words. This, he had learnt the hardest way. Thus, he managed to equate the deceit with deceit. He sharpened his mind, a sly tongue as back-up; and he still lost.

First, he stopped voicing his thoughts.

Next, he asked himself. _What’s the point of having them if they were of no use?_

Finally, he stopped wanting altogether.

Young Killua chased after the kid across the street. Huh. He’s not going to dispatch his mark again. Just like last time.

The illusion of freedom—at first, it was amusing to deceive Killua that he could go to missions alone. Now, Illumi had concluded things were getting out of hand.

A man in an immaculate suit had has a gun pointed at Killua from a nearby structure—it was the governor’s sniper. Politicians had always been subtly prepared, Illumi supposed. The older had been thinking of relaying a message to Killua’s hair microphone for a while now. This was taking too long but he waited. His little brother had endured his previous trainings and missions so he’d carry out this one as well. Killua’s just being irrational for a moment.

_Ah, so much for that._

There gone the shot to his little brother’s shoulder. It was not a mortal wound but Illumi was most certain it wasn’t a very pleasant sight. The pain was inflicted by a person out of his family after all.

Just as he witnessed Killua register pain in the middle of the street, another bullet shattered through the windshield of an approaching car. 

Before he could tell him to move, the young one’s body had already pierced through the air from the impact, landing a few feet away from the vehicle. The knife he was brandishing was thrown a few feet away.

“Kil, gather yourself.”

“Illu-nii.”

The sniper prepped for a second shot.

Illumi’s body went rigid, his mind blank. He sighed, still indifferent, adding, “And back down at once.” 

Killua immediately pulled himself to his feet, retreating before being identified by the growing crowd.

Killua’s actions rendered this mission a failure. A first. The older announced his presence, subsequently intervening to take out the sniper. The money on the girl’s assassination now priority number one.

Killua’s in the way.

Young Killua hissed when his head slammed on the concrete. The chamber’s floor was rough and cold against his cheek. It was a surprise. He had just walked in a few yards from the door when his father tackled him from behind. He let his guard down.

“Shadow step in default, Kil. Be cautious.”

_Got it._

The pro assassin aimed to launch another full-blown clout. _A training?_ Killua wondered. He scrambled to get on his feet and side-stepped to block the assault, paying no mind to the slight throbbing of his head. For a short moment, his reluctance to fight lead him to getting backed into defense.

“Father, is this why I was called for? Isn’t it to reprimand me?”

“We’d get to that part soon. Regardless, you can do better than this. You lack the offense.”

Killua cluck his tongue. He lunged for his father but then his arm was caught and immediately twisted. Silva pushed his chest and young Killua leaped backward.

His father leaped towards him and tried for close combat for a long while. Killua had his arms act as shields to anticipate the unrelenting blow. He could only pair his father’s attack with his weak jabs. But this should keep him at bay.

Killua couldn’t deny it. He was aware he was waltzing with death—

And he could do better.

“Your assault caught me off-guard, and I just got my shoulder dealt with by a butler. Mother would be furious about this.”

“Your mother sends her regard. She was crying because you were handful, wanting to play instead of tending to your responsibilities.”

“Why—” his shook his head, breathless. _Mother said that?_

Wordlessly, his father vanished into thin air. Killua staggered. He smacked his palm onto his lower back to accommodate the sudden feel of something piercing through flesh. He tried to process what happened.

His father’s malicious presence reappeared in the corner, tossing him a dagger. “You’ve been told when you received your summons, Kil. This is a level up.”

Killua caught it, blood still felt warm on his other hand. He winced, eyes sharp to his father, “You talk like I told you it was a game.”

“You did, son,” Silva laughed, “When you were high on poison.”

This is undeniably no joke; his father had a knife and Killua’s back was bleeding. He swiftly swallowed pain like a lump in his throat. Confused and dreading, he was. Normally, torture sessions and battle trainings were divided.

“Now, son. Attack.”

 _Right, Father._ Easier said than done. “Illu-nii, do you have business here? You look like you’d stick your needles on me.”

Killua kept his voice steady as he acknowledged the presence looming from behind him. Illumi was here.

He stayed rooted to his position when his father relaxed, nearly looked like he was done. Illumi didn’t answer, however, and honestly Killua had no care. Illumi had no entitlement to interfering in close combat trainings.

Or so he thought. 

He felt Illumi move and he attempted to jump forward and out of his way. He was a beat late though. Illumi grabbed his small ankles and flipped him over to hang him upside-down, back turned from his real opponent. Killua’s body’s initial reaction upon the restraint was to grab Illumi’s head and snap his neck. He was about to reach for his brother when something pricked at his skin. Then, his father spoke, “Illumi, you are in charge of Killua’s training for now.”

Illumi tipped his head to the side, “Kil is still a kid though, Father?”

He saw his Father’s clenched jaw before he heard him loud and clear.

“It is needed. He will stop acting like a kid if you don’t treat him like one.”

_Oh._

His vision was blurring around the edges, but young Killua understood what it was they were about to stir, all but forgetting what he saw by the room’s door. A myriad of bottles he couldn’t recognize yet. Dozens of syringes. Needles.

They were planning to overdose him.

How long has he been here?

When Illumi got done with the poisons, Killua was only either pounding his chest full-force or hitting his head on the floor. His shirt was lying away from him, his shorts absorbing blood and sweat. He definitely was in what he called the torture gear right now. He was breathing heavily. His chest burned. His head was throbbing, beating like a massive heart.

His body had yet to become accustomed to multitude of poisons at once, and it was like they could replace his whole bloodstream. It left a foul taste in his mouth— Wait, did he even froth—

He tried retaliating, with words that was. The young one’s language wasn’t coherent enough though. His screams and cries were jumbled with threats and pleas. Inhumane electric voltage coursed through his condemned body without respite. Chains rattled as he kept punching the concrete, all to hear his knuckles crack to confirm they were still intact. His toes were curling and uncurling like they were frozen just to feel them.

He was most surprised his body recognized pain like it was brand-new. The logical part of him thought maybe there was a reaction to the odd mixture of the poison, his body was utterly sensitive.

Well, was he in _his_ body?

 _Ah_ , he thinks, _this is the worst._

Through the haze of his mind, he heard Illumi as he padded towards him.

“Never over-pursue, Kil. It’s improper.” He said, freeing him from the electric chains.

Then, Killua was forced to get up; and he collapsed on the floor once more.

There were a lot of lingering ache all over his body he couldn’t quite place _where_. He couldn’t sort which stimulus brought which pain, Killua’s body was on fire inside out. 

He caught a glimpse of Illumi, looking at him with an amused side smile, as though he was only watching young Killua fall from a bike and get up again.

It continued like that, he wasn’t sure how long from the lack of window and clocks in the room. He hadn’t eaten since the beginning and he was permitted to drink only in small amount, at few random times Illumi chose. Not that any of that was new too, but faintly he could register his growling stomach and tight throat now.

He wanted to get away.

_Is that even possible…_

Young Killua ended up with a bleeding ear and a dislocated elbow when he tried to fight Illumi back. Most of his fingers were broken as well, but he might be the one who did that. He was glad he could feel them anyway. Next, he found himself sprawled limply on the floor, struggling to breathe.

He had to get up again, somehow.

The pain was too much, his mind blanked. He was crying. _Why was he crying?_ He was just gaping at the cobbled ceiling idly, tears running freely down his cheeks. Nothing matters anymore. In a span of a minute, he couldn’t feel himself.

“You cannot defy me. But if you manage to beat me, I’ll stop this; You can run too, if your legs allow it.”

Killua flinched. _Illumi was still there?_

The pain had rushed back, twofold.

Illumi continued, “Never fight an enemy you can’t beat. Am I clear, Kil? But if you run, I would no longer humor you of meeting Alluka.”

 _No._ He didn’t want to lose her, _his light._

Killua couldn’t think straight. He wanted to forget he heard what his brother said in the first place. He didn’t want to remember. He was scared. He was terrified of Illumi. There was numbness and excruciating pain in his body at the same time. It was so painful and he couldn’t even faint.

His head was bleeding profusely and he had his ribs broken due to the previous pounding. Was he even alive anymore or was he gazing his brother through a dead person’s eyes? His breathing was struggled and uneven.

“Master Killua’s blood has stopped clothing, Master Illumi. Should I ask for Tsubone’s assistance?” Illumi nodded to him.

Gotoh was there too, Killua realized. Gotoh made sure to tend to Killua’s injuries from time to time, each with an inscrutable look on his face. If Killua could move, he thought he would have teased the butler for looking like he wanted to poop. He would have force him to poop for real too.

Illumi kept up with imposing his cautions as a mantra to Killua, and the younger could have sworn an unknown force was engulfing his entire being all the while. The simultaneous torture and supposedly combat proceeeded, and just then, Killua noticed his body was responding less and less to pain.

If Illumi’s beatings were getting weaker or if his body was getting numb, he wasn’t sure.

Killua was nine when he taught himself how to manipulate his muscles and alter his joints at will, just after he saved Kalluto from a Nen user. If not for Killua’s quickly devised strategy to escape, the mission would’ve failed. A smirk came unbidden in his lips upon the thrill brought by each assignment’s success.

That night, he was shackled to the electric chair. He yawned from his place, willing Illumi in his mind to just get over with it. His brother walked over to him, face blank, “You should not fight an enemy stronger than you. You shouldn’t be worrying about others.”

Killua fought the urge to make any expression at all. He remembered his father describing him as “Killua, not backing down even at the face of death.”

He’s not even dead. They made it out alive.

He pressed Killua’s head against the concrete, holding the top of his head still with a hand. _What is he doing—_ The older seemed to draw out nothingness from his windbreaker’s pockets in a split-second. 

“Aniki—” Killua’s heart rate picked up and he braced himself as Illumi said, “Stay still, Kil. This will put you in place.”

Killua’s acknowledgment of his abilities run rampant whenever Silva brings him to client assemblies. He would definitely make the top assassin.

Kikyo relished in the way Killua marred his targets as he fluidly cuts them up, astonished at the convenience of manipulation. Dull scalpels and unfocused daggers no more. However, Young Killua couldn’t spare Kikyo a fraction of thought anymore, he had no interest in his Mother. Instead, he was thoughtfully basking in the way a new female butler was smiling and greeting him every time they crossed paths across the manor. His youngest sibling, Kalluto, wasn’t allowed to play with him.

Killua never had a friend anyway, and the butler seemed nice. But first, he would play with Milluki for a bit. There’s a new play station on sale his brother tasked him to buy during a mission, now isn’t there? He briefly wondered if his brother would let him borrow it.  
He could just break Milluki’s figures otherwise.

His mind wanders back to the butler, and after a long deliberation, he decided he would befriend her.

Tsubone was the butler who had best skills in medicine. Not only had she been teaching all about it, she could also train new butlers with her knowledge from experience in combat as well.

She was treating Killua’s wounds with utmost care since he was young. Now that Killua was ten, she could hardly keep him in place. He was usually running off to mess with the butlers halfway through the bandaging. At rare times, Tsubone would let him turn the quarters over in its roof. Most of the time, she would knock him out.

Few and far between, young Killua would tell stories to the adult butler giddily, exactly what was happening right now. The stories were about missions and the outside all the time.

Killua wasn’t crying out as Tsubone treated a particular deep lash on his forearm. Her mind told her she could hear the beating of the swollen rim around Killua’s wound, if only she would lean close to it. She thought that with the deep rift in his skin, the lash would have reached the bone if little more strength was applied. The dried blood which had previously flowed out of it was black already.

She couldn’t help but notice Killua’s lack of reaction at times like this. Somehow, the torture was a stone hitting two birds at once. The self-preservation the family wanted to instill, and the pain endurance in case they were caught. She would have admitted Illumi had done a great job—for assassin’s training, that is—but the young man had gone overboard a lot of times with the beatings before so forget it. That was heart-wrenching.

Killua tilted his head in mischief, proceeding with his story, “The weird thing is, Dad didn’t want me to take risks during my assignments—but a month ago when we met a client at a casino, he said I make my bet! Tsubone! He was asking me to risk my money saved for chocolate!”

Tsubone listened to what he was saying, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Ne, Tsubone. The second weird thing is, how old are you?”

That was a very strange thing to ask, Tsubone muses. “I’m very well in my—”

“Because you look preeeeeety damn old, you know?”

A vein throbbed in Tsubone’s temple, but he smiled at the kid.

“Killua-chan.” She purposely grips at Killua’s bruise a little forcefully, eliciting a joking yelp from him. “Be respectful towards old ladies, understood?”

He let out a giddy laugh and squirmed in her hold. “Ha! As if!”

Killua would surely wiggle out of Tsubone’s grasp sooner or later, all just to make fun of the butlers in the headquarters and/or break in to sleep there. Seeing that menacing side of the young master rarely was better than a child who was always stiffly obedient whenever Illumi was around. So, Tsubone willed herself not to shoo away the child when those events happen. If that was the only way so he could suffer less, so be it.

“Oh, Kil, how you’ve grown.”

Mother’s voice was… stupid, Killua decided. Killua didn’t answer her as he kicked the door closed from behind. His hands were shoved inside his pockets and his expression screamed unimpressed as ever. The mansion was boring, and he was sick of killing; torture and combat trainings had rendered themselves waste as well. He didn’t know what to do though, but he still sought thrill. The family, taken into consideration, wouldn’t give him consent to step out the manor unless he had someone to assassinate, too.

He could only think of one option out.

Killua didn’t let his guard down, head-strong as he paced towards his Mother. They were deliberating about his future; he knew it very well. However, he came up with a fool-proof plan for the weeks Kalluto was sparring with him. This was the best chance to execute it, with Illumi’s absence.

Kalluto wanted to come along at first, but she quietly controlled herself with, “Onii-sama, Mother would be mad…” And Killua expected just that that’s why he would leave still.

With a vague objective in mind, he hardened his muscles and protruded his nails into claws. He was running away, but where was he headed? To a great game to pass time, naturally—

He was told Hunter Exam was thrilling.


End file.
